Syllogism
by J. Peterson
Summary: It's logical to miss a friend. It's logical to want to see them. It's logical to want to grow close again, even after a long estrangement. But how close? Follows the events of Prologue. Eventual ShizNat.
1. Loyalty

**Disclaimer:**  
Mai HiME, all its characters and other related indica belong to Sunrise. No profit made, no infringement intended. **Furthermore**, this fic follows the events of a separate story called _Prologue_. If you haven't already read that, you're probably going to be horribly confused.

**Author's notes:**  
Holy crap! Anyone even remember this thing by now? o.o

This is the start of my rewrite of _A Million Reasons_. And when I say 'rewrite', I mean _rewrite_! Some things from the original story will remain; a lot will change. I'm using the old version (and _Prologue_; which I may or may not revise at some point) as reference, but that's it. I've gotten to know the characters a lot better in the past 5 years – not to mention grown up a bit more - and the story's presumably going to reflect that rather heavily. Expect a lot less angst, for one thing.

Also, I'd actually promised myself to not post any of this until I was a lot closer to finishing both _On Location_ and _Distortion_ – or at least one of them. But I'm an impatient sort when it comes to this stuff, and since I (obviously) finished the first chapter and have another 14 at least vaguely planned out... what the hell, right? Just don't expect regular updates at this point. The other two are very much my top priorities right now.

**Terminology:**  
_Manshon_  
A more modern type of apartment block, usually built with reinforced concrete.

Enjoy!

**Syllogism**  
Loyalty

* * *

The sudden downpour had caught her halfway between her sister's house and her own apartment, and the constant spattering against the surface of her helmet filled her ears with a strange sort of muffled thunder. The slick roads were gleaming beneath the yellow streetlights, reflecting red and white where cars drove past her or vice-versa, and Natsuki pushed the throttle back a little further, trusting the sturdy machine and her own skills to carry her safely home.

Body-suit or not, rain like this always made her skin cold and clammy. But even though the chills were starting to creep up on her, she had a constant, quirky little smile on her lips that she just couldn't shake. And as she took the next corner at a somewhat reasonable speed, she reached out and ran her hand along a series of low branches – scattering the wetness from the green leaves wildly in her wake.

Behind the cover of her helmet, Natsuki laughed softly, and shook her head at herself as she wrapped her gloved fingers back around the handle. It was such a weird feeling.

Soon, the entrance to the underground garage for her apartment complex was coming up on the right, and she slowed to an almost-crawl as she turned and pushed a button, letting the bike roll steadily down the concrete surface and guiding it into her designated parking spot while the heavy gates closed behind her. Seconds later, the helmet was off her head and her fingers folded around its chin-guard, and she used her free hand to tug her hair loose from the jacket as she jogged up the stairs to the ground floor.

The complex was a good-sized, three-story _manshon_ located off the more beaten paths of downtown Fuuka, as well as on the far outskirts of the district the Yukimuras lived in. It had a grand total of six large apartments – two on each floor, with one of the ground floor apartments occupied by the owners and live-in landlords. Both men were friendly, charming, in their late twenties and devastatingly handsome, and as Natsuki shoved open the door to the little lobby area, she almost slammed it headfirst into one of them.

"Ah!" She quickly grabbed the handle and stopped the door from moving any further, her wet boots squeaking on the floor as she skidded to a stop herself. "Sorry!"

Kumamoto Daichi grinned in response and set his hands on his hips. He was the fairer of the pair with pale skin, straight blond hair that shone red under the right light, hazel eyes and a lithely muscled, compact build. He managed to look rumpled all day long – usually sporting a wifebeater and a pair of well-worn jeans, along with a permanent five-o-clock shadow to go with his equally permanent case of bedhead.

"Good evening, Natsuki-san," he greeted her cheerfully. "Did you remember an important paper that you'd previously forgotten, or is there another reason that you're dragging muddy water onto my freshly cleaned floors?"

Natsuki rolled her eyes. One of the major reasons that she'd chosen her current unit when last she'd moved was the easy rapport she'd instantly had with the landlords; Daichi in particular, uneven match though they were. He was incessantly cheerful and forever yanking her proverbial chain, much to his own amusement and Natsuki's chagrin.

"Freshly cleaned with what?" she shot back, and swallowed a smirk as she looked around theatrically. "Dehydrated water?"

The blond man's smile didn't even falter. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" Natsuki slipped past him, ducking under his half-hearted lunge before heading up the stairs to the next level at a fast clip. "You're more of a slob than I am!"

"Lies!" came the cry behind her. "All lies!"

"Yeah, yeah." She grinned and shook her head as she continued her jog up to the first floor, deftly unlocked the door to her own apartment and slipped inside. A corner of the red-painted entryway had been set aside specifically for her motorcycle gear, and Natsuki neatly deposited her boots in the tray set there to catch any rain dripping from them, then stripped out of her jacket and bodysuit and hung those on a set of hooks above the tray to be cleaned more thoroughly later, once they'd dried off somewhat.

That done, she stepped over to the small dresser tucked against one wall next to a tall mirror – it contained nothing but what she'd long since deemed 'chillout' clothes. Stuff she was comfortable in, and that could be pulled on quickly to help her warm up after a clammy drive like the one she'd just come home from, since there was a very strict limit as to what she could wear under her bodysuit without feeling horribly constricted. Her underwear was usually it, really, which was why she always kept a small duffel with a change of clothes in the bike itself.

_Well..._ Natsuki eyed herself in the mirror once she'd finished dressing, and took in the well-worn, black cargo shorts and the deep red t-shirt she'd selected with a faint, wry twist of her mouth. A change of clothes she'd usually wear in public, anyway.

Now suitably attired for an evening in by herself, she claimed the small stack of mail from the end table by the door, and felt the hardwood floor of the entryway change to the the soft, gray carpet of the living room beneath her bare feet as she walked. She made a sharp right turn almost the second she entered the room – spinning around to pass through the doorway into the large kitchen with its heated floor tiles, deep green walls, wooden cupboards, stainless steel appliances and white countertops.

"You may already be a winner," she muttered as she walked; reading aloud from the front of the topmost envelope. "Right." A flick of her wrist, and the unwanted piece of mail went spinning through the air and neatly into a recycling bin in the far corner. "Claim your free prize now." Pause. "Ah, there's the asterisk." Flick, swish, and just before the soft 'plop' of landing, the faint suction of the fridge door being opened. "Save the planet." A soft bump as she booted the refrigerator shut again with the heel of one foot, followed by a wry snort, and another piece of snail-mail turned airborne. "Been there, done that."

Natsuki set down the bottle she'd grabbed, then ignored the nearby dining table and its four chairs entirely - instead hoisting herself onto the counter and extending her bare legs out along the pale stone before re-securing her drink and popping it open. She sucked at the tangy juice as she leaned back against the wall and studied the remaining two pieces of mail resting in her lap. One was recent; having been retrieved from her mailbox in the lobby earlier that day when she'd been home for a brief stint, and the insignia for Fuuka University in the top corner gave her a pretty good guess as to its contents.

She set that letter aside, and instead focused on the final envelope.

This letter was older. It had been sitting by her front door for well over a week now, and had in all honesty come close to being opened several times. Each time, however, she'd changed her mind and left it as it was; still smarting somewhat from the sting of abandonment, as well as the curious feeling of rejection at not being contacted at all for seven years by someone who had once proclaimed to care very deeply for her.

The handwriting, Natsuki reflected as she studied the penmanship that made up her own name and address – and where had she gotten that? - was as familiar to her as her own, even though she hadn't seen a recent example of it in years. It had changed in that time, but in far more subtle ways than her own had. It was steadier somehow – the script elongated and flowing. Elegant, but subtly so.

Not unlike the writer, she supposed as she carefully worked the letter open, unearthed the single sheet of paper within and – with a slow, expelled breath – started to read.

___Dear Natsuki_

___Firstly, I would like to apologize for not attempting to reach you sooner than this. While I realize that you were probably hurt by my sudden departure, I cannot in good conscience apologize for that. I needed that time away from you in order to learn how to simply be your friend – believe me, the decision wasn't a simple one, but it was, in the end, the right one. I cannot truly apologize for leaving without telling you, either, because had I told you, it would have taken nothing more than a single indication of sadness on your part to make me cast away my plans entirely._

___I hope you can understand why I took the measures that I did, and that you can forgive me. I truly never wanted to hurt you, although I did realize that my actions would do exactly that. I also promised myself that I would not attempt to seek you out in any way unless you attempted to reach me first. That might have been a bad choice, because I do know how stubborn you are._

___However, life's whims have now twined to decisively end my self-imposed isolation from you, and I have every intention of going along with them. Having completed my education last year, I've now been appointed as the new head of the Fuuka offices – something you'll undoubtedly hear of soon, if you haven't already. The family name tends to come with a fair bit of notoriety, unfortunately._

___Unless there are any last-minute changes, it looks as if I'll be returning to Fuuka in the first week of April. My personal number is listed below, in case you would prefer to call or text me before meeting again._

___If you would prefer not to meet at all, I would understand that. Should I not hear from you before the start of May, I'll take that to be the case._

___I do hope that you've missed me as well, though. I won't apologize for that, either._

___Yours,  
____Shizuru_

Natsuki let the hand holding the paper fall into her lap with a sigh. "Idiotic woman," she grumbled; pausing to take another mouthful of juice. "Of course I missed you," she muttered, and let her eyes skim the letter once more. It was only a few paragraphs long, of course, and barely took up the single page it had been meticulously penned onto, but all the same, it managed to speak volumes. Not so much in terms of the explanations and apologies it attempted to offer; those were obvious enough to the naked eye and – in regards to Shizuru's explanation for leaving – in other ways as well. While Natsuki wasn't shy about admitting that she could be focused to the point of being downright thick-headed, she _had_ figured out the reason for her friend's departure.

_Eventually, anyway_, she mused. For a good long while after it happened, she'd been too hurt and angry to give much thought to the cause, but still, she'd come to understand, if not exactly agree.

No, what this letter spoke volumes about – at least to her – was in how Shizuru had... changed? She batted that word around her head idly as she considered it. Well, there was definitely a far more serious tone to the missive than what she was used to, and certainly, the years that had passed had changed _her_ so much that she barely recognized her 17-year old self on the occasions that she did have the reason or inclination to look back.

"What an asshole I was," she told the ceiling dryly. "If I met myself now, I'd kick my butt from one end of campus to the other."

Alright, so Shizuru had probably changed as well, but... Natsuki studied the paper in her hand again, and felt a thoughtful little furrow form between her brows. Somehow, the general impression she was getting from reading between the lines was more one of a shield. A guard, rather than the massive change that the actual words suggested. Hardly surprising, she decided as she re-read the last few lines. If Shizuru was halfway convinced that her attempt at bridging the old gap between them was unwanted, then it would make sense for her to play her cards close to her chest – especially since it would also put significantly less pressure on Natsuki herself.

"Still looking out for me, huh?" The cool, ribbed glass of the juice bottle slid against her skin as she let it sway lightly back and forth in the grasp of two fingers, and her gaze dropped to the telephone number listed beneath Shizuru's signature.

___Call?_ she wondered, only to shake her head after a glance towards the digital clock on the microwave revealed a cheerful 23:31. Way too late to call on a weekday; especially if Shizuru had a cross-country move to organize.

Natsuki carefully folded the letter and set it down on the counter next to her hip; deciding to look into what lay within the other envelope for now. She was fairly sure it had to do with the work-experience that would be part and parcel of her final year in university. Those of her yearmates who had been selected for a similar treatment had started theirs already, but her assigned guidance counselor had found it a bit of a challenge to find somewhere to place her. Not because positions weren't available, but because Professor Kamiizumi Minako was being terribly exacting in her behalf.

_"__You were never meant to row the boat, Kuga-san," she'd told her at the start of their acquaintance – shortly after Natsuki had come under her proverbial wing as she embarked on earning her graduate diploma. "You don't belong in the labs. Oh, you'd know what to do there and you'd do a fine job, but you would be bored out of your mind in less than a week. No, you're supposed to steer the boat – rock it, if that's what it takes. You are not a follower. You are a leader."_

She still wasn't entirely convinced about that, honestly, but Kamiizumi-sensei was known for setting her expectations for her students high, but never _too _high. So Natsuki had agreed to at least give it a try, provided that the older woman could find somewhere to place her that would expose her chiefly to the managerial side of things. It was unorthodox to say the least, and would probably require an inordinate amount of string-pulling.

Given the thickness of the envelope she now held, however, she decided that one of the strings had returned a nibble, and worked it open with one fingertip before extracting the papers within.

Natsuki skimmed through the short, typed letter from her professor that confirmed her guess before setting it aside, and then focused on the papers that gave a short description of the company she'd be working for. It took all of one second of reading before she started laughing helplessly.

___Immediate supervisor: Fujino Shizuru, CEO_

To her, that was a particularly entertaining bit of irony, and she let her amusement dwindle down to a chuckle as she leafed through the papers that detailed everything from what days and hours she was expected to work to the company dress code. It was a good thing that she was looking forward to seeing her old friend; had she been dreading it, undecided or downright unwilling, this would have ended up being a huge complication. As it was, she found herself wondering chiefly if Shizuru knew about this, and after a few moments of consideration, deciding that she was probably too busy getting acquainted with her new responsibilities and shifting her life from Kyoto back to Fuuka to worry about such trivial things as... she flicked a few pages back to find the title that had been assigned to her own position... an assistant.

Should she tell her? Natsuki paused in her perusal to regard the plain ceiling once more, and ended up shaking her head even as a smile pulled at her lips. No. Shizuru had spent far too much time enjoying how flabbergasted Natsuki herself could get back during their school days – this was a prime chance to return the favor, and she was absolutely going to take it.

A few more flicks through the stack of papers, and she arrived at the last page. She read it carefully, and noted that even if she herself agreed to take on the position, her appointment would depend entirely on the outcome of an interview with her immediate supervisor, who would have the final say in whether or not she seemed suitable to spend the better part of her final year filling a job she essentially had no idea how to do.

She could definitely feel at least half a dozen butterflies fluttering around inside her stomach at that thought. It wouldn't be easy by any stretch of the imagination; at least during the first few weeks, she was sure she'd have so much new information pushed into her head that she'd feel like it was about to burst at the end of the day. But aside from the enjoyable mental image of surprising the hell out of Shizuru, the position itself spoke to the ambitious side of her, and to say that she was intrigued by the responsibilities offered would be an understatement.

Natsuki twisted herself around until her legs were hanging off the side of the counter, then set her palms against the pale stone and pushed herself off to land with a little hop on the floor tiles. She set the papers down, blindly reached for - and secured – a pen, and signed on the proverbial, dotted line with a smirk. Another quick investigation of the envelope the papers had arrived in revealed a spare one – folded in half so it would fit and already addressed to her counselor – and she settled the final page into it and sealed it with a faint hint of permanence.

A good kind, thankfully, she considered as she then pulled her cellphone from the pocket of her shorts and added Shizuru's number to her short list of contacts. She studied the result for a while, and tilted her head faintly in thought. It was definitely too late for calling, yes. But a text couldn't hurt, could it?

A few flicks of her thumb against the sensitive touch-screen, and she was presented with the messaging display. ___I look forward to seeing you_, she ended up typing in after several other, deleted attempts, and almost tapped the Send button when another thought tickled the back of her mind and made her pause. ___Any specific idea when you're arriving? -N_

Surprisingly, the phone pinged from its resting place on the counter after only the time it took her to drain her juice and dispose of the bottle, and she grabbed it and twirled it in her hand so the screen was right-side-up. Was Shizuru even awake at this hour?

Apparently so.

___Fujino Shizuru - 11:49 PM:  
____Natsuki is up very late for a school night – is she planning on sleeping in class again? My flight is late in the afternoon on the 7th. Would you be willing to meet up on the 8th?_

Green eyes rolled even as a faint grin tugged at the corners of Natsuki's lips at the teasing tone that she could almost hear. Now she was definitely convinced that the style of the letter had been what it was due to worry on Shizuru's part. One amiable text message from her later, and the resulting reply sounded far more like what she remembered. Not to mention she'd managed to secure the information she wanted, and apparently without Shizuru being any the wiser. Live and learn, indeed.

"The seventh," she muttered to herself, switching from her messages to her calender. "A Saturday, huh?" That only left the arrival time to be defined, and she tapped her way into the phone's internet browser and started a search for flights from Kansai International to Fuuka on that date, then left that to run its course as she flicked back into her messages.

___If you think I have time to sleep in class, you've obviously been out of university for too long_, she sent back. ___But I probably should hit the hay. See you on the 8th._

___:) See you then._

She smiled back at the message before closing that window and returning to the search. It was surprisingly easy to figure out what time Shizuru's flight was likely to arrive, since there were only two planes departing from Kansai with Fuuka as their destination at any time after noon. So, she determined, her old friend would probably be arriving at around 5 PM after barely an hour and a half of transit.

Natsuki switched back to her text messaging screen once more, although this time the recipient was her older sister. Akiko, she knew, was doubtlessly sleeping at this point, so she wasn't expecting a reply until the following morning, at the earliest.

Still, she thumbed out a brief missive, and sent it.

___Any chance I can borrow your car on April 7?_


	2. Acquaintance

For disclaimers, please see part one.

**Author's notes:**  
I keep my promises – to others, anyway. :P

In other news, Shizuru will be using the Kansai-varieties of -san and -chan in this fic. I realize that she didn't in the anime, but I imagine that several years in Kyoto could easily have gotten her (back?) into that habit.

Also - tweaked a few things in here and in the last chapter (bad, because I should have done this before posting entirely), but Crosswood was kind enough to point out a few things that really did require fixing, while DezoPenguin reminded me that a note to read _Prologue_ before this might be a good idea. Thanks!

Enjoy!

**Acquaintance**

* * *

It was a particularly lovely example of a mid-spring day. The sun was out and benignly casting its warm rays across across a medium-sized, one-story concrete building; the white walls of which reflected the light with just enough force to appear as if it was almost glowing. It had been carefully set back from a large, four-lane road by way of a line of trees that were slowly starting to produce fresh, green leaves, and after those, the narrow but elongated expanse of a roughly halfway-filled car park. The building itself had several large trees growing on its grounds, and from the car park itself, it was possible to see the end of what looked like a playground nestled in the grass behind it. A wooden sign dotted with small, colorful drawings had been mounted above the double-door that apparently served as the main entry point, and the writing on the sign itself effectively identified the structure as _Fuuka Elementary School - East District_.

Right now, the doors were opening as a small group of people exited, and then immediately diverged into smaller groups consisting of no more than two or three individuals apiece. One of the pairs was made up of a young woman with long, dark hair who looked to be in her early twenties, comfortably dressed in dark jeans and a brightly colored blouse that was just faintly visible under a halfway zipped, white windbreaker. At her side was a girl who was dressed in the deep green and white uniform of the school itself; her hair was several shades lighter than that of her adult companion - almost the exact color of the sky above, in fact - and just barely brushed the lower ends of her shoulder-blades. The top of her head was about level with the young woman's chest, and her hands were currently wrapped around the straps of the pink book bag that rested on her back.

"So what was that stuff about you and Shou-kun?" Natsuki asked, and was immediately treated to a set of wide, innocent green eyes peering up at her. "Don't gimme that look, kiddo. You know what I'm talking about."

"He started it," Kaguya defended in time-honored tradition, and scowled at the pavement beneath her feet.

"And you finished it, hm?" God, it was a struggle to keep the amusement out of her own voice, but she managed somehow. From what Kaguya's teacher had told her earlier – since Natsuki herself was a well-known entity at the elementary school and essentially treated like a third parent – her niece had gotten into an argument with one of her classmates during the last half of the day. The boy had teased her, and when he wouldn't leave her alone, Kaguya had eventually responded with a remarkably solid slap that had actually knocked the boy over and resulted in a minor scuffle.

And – Natsuki eyed a trio of two adults and the boy in question, who were walking towards a different part of the small car-park – it had probably left an impression in more ways than one. Even from here, she could see the near-perfect handprint on the side of the boy's face.

_We're definitely related_, she mused, and shook her head. Honestly, she was proud of Kaguya for holding back as long as she had before resorting to physicality; something several other children had witnessed, and that the teacher had been adamant about pointing out. The school wasn't punishing the girl, but they _were_ asking that Kaguya was sat down and talked to about the importance of avoiding violence altogether, and Natsuki remembered her own formative years well enough to know that she was probably the best person to have that particular conversation.

Experience being the best teacher and all that.

"He was being mean," Kaguya insisted, and hiked her small bag higher up on one still-narrow shoulder. "I told him to stop lots of times, but he didn't."

"I know." Natsuki ruffled the azure hair gently, and exhaled slowly when it hit her once again that she actually had to raise her hand well above her own elbow to do that. Kaguya was tall for being just barely seven years old. A recent growth-spurt had made her stand half a head above even the tallest of her classmates, and that was probably the source of most of the teasing she had to endure.

Kids could be cruel, after all.

"He called me a beanpole," the girl in question muttered, and unknowingly confirmed her reflections.

"Hey." Natsuki grasped the girl by the sides as they reached the silver sedan belonging to the Yukimuras, and carefully settled her niece on the back of the car so they were pretty much at eye-level with each other. Not that nature wouldn't make that happen soon enough, she considered. Even now – even with how thin Kaguya was - she could feel the beginnings of strain in her muscles when she picked the girl up, and felt a quiet sadness that her time spent lifting and carrying her was running out. "Listen to me, okay?"

"Okay."

Natsuki twisted her mouth faintly, and tapped at the top of the fair head until those very familiar eyes were meeting her own. "First thing, keep your head up, okay? You don't have anything to be ashamed about."

Kaguya frowned, and her heels beat a soft, irregular rhythm against the car's bumper. "You're not mad?"

"No." Natsuki chuckled, and brushed the long, loose hair out of the girl's face. "Everybody said that you did your best to talk to Shou-kun before you hit him. Nobody's blaming you for the fact that he didn't listen." She waited for Kaguya to nod. "But... and this is the really important part... you _did _hit him, and that's the one thing you should try to avoid, alright?"

"But-!"

"I know." She held up a hand to gently forestall the protest. "He was being mean, and he was being a bully, and he probably deserved it. But unless you feel like you're in some kind of danger, you _cannot _hit first." Pause. "Okay? Talk, walk away or find an adult instead."

The pale eyebrows rose. "And if they hit me first?"

"I shoulda known you'd pick that up, out of everything I said," Natsuki muttered, and rolled her eyes while the girl grinned. "Scrappy little thing – don't take too many pages from your obachan's book, alright?" She poked Kaguya's nose with one finger. "I learned that lesson the hard way and I'm passing it on to you for free, so be grateful."

"Thank you," Kaguya replied obediently, and nodded her head. "But you didn't answer my question, Obachan."

"You're definitely your mother's daughter," Natsuki decided with a wry, half-grin. Akiko certainly never let her talk around anything, either. "If someone hits you first, that's different. You're defending yourself instead of attacking someone else, but you should still try to avoid fighting at all. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

The girl gave her a baffled look. "What do I want flies for?"

"It's an expresionnnnn!" Natsuki cheered, and yanked her niece into the air and over her shoulder, then spun in place and grinned at the high-pitched, squealing giggles the action elicited from Kaguya.

"Obachan!"

"Alright, alright." She chuckled at the feeling of the small hands smacking at her back, and set her niece back on her own feet with a smile. "Seriously, sprout, you do get more out of being nice to people in the long run – that's what that expression means."

Kaguya nodded, though she also spent a few seconds catching her breath before tilting her head back and peering up at her. "Were you always nice to people, Obachan?" she asked with a decidedly crafty glint in her eyes.

"Nope." Natsuki saw no point in lying about that, and so didn't bother dissembling as she opened the passenger side door and let Kaguya settle herself before jogging around the front of the car and taking her own seat behind the wheel. "Like I said before, I learned that lesson the hard way." She started the car up, and kept her attention on her mirrors as she backed out of the space and guided the sedan onto the road. "Now – how about some ice cream after a day like this?"

"Yes!" Kaguya bounced in her seat and grinned. "And maybe we can not tell mama and papa that I got into a fight?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh, no." Natsuki smiled wryly as she steered the vehicle in the general direction of one of their favorite ice cream parlors. "No way, kiddo. You play, you pay – but I _will _talk to your folks before they talk to you. Alright?"

xXxXx

_What an absolute, unmitigated mess._

Shizuru set her hands on her hips and sighed as she surveyed the disaster zone that had become her bedroom – or was it the other way around? - thanks to the amount of items she needed to sort through and either pack or have prepared for shipping before she returned to Fuuka. It had started out so simple, too; all she had to do was go through her possessions and pick what to bring with her, and what to leave behind.

All, indeed. She blew out a breath and looked around as she tried to decide where to start. The last time she'd had to do this was before she left to attend Fuuka Academy, but back then she was moving into the dorms and was fully expecting to return to Kyoto within the span of a few years. For that reason, it had been a lot easier for her to decide what things she could do without for that limited time. Now, however, barring a complete crash-and-burn take on her new responsibilities, she was moving to Fuuka _permanently_, and that made enough of a difference that so far, just about every single thing she owned had been sorted into five separate sections. Meanwhile, every closet, cupboard and drawer in the large room was gapingly empty, because she was nothing if not thorough.

Definitely bring, maybe bring, undecided, maybe leave, definitely leave. And the last one was almost depressingly tiny, so she obviously needed to be more strict with her sorting. Or, she decided as she eyed the alarmingly large _definitely bring_ section, perhaps she should simply focus on the first two piles; on getting them squared away before she worried about the rest. If the past day and a half was any indication, she could easily spend her last week here just shifting the contents of the various piles around, after all. That certainly wasn't very productive.

A faint jingle drew her out of her musings. The sound was easy enough to identify – she'd had the same bit of melody set to alert her to a new text message since she'd purchased the phone, after all, but locating the gadget in question took some doing. Thankfully, she'd long since set the tone to repeat every so often if she didn't actively open the message it signaled, and now that aided her in digging the source of it out from under a pile of _maybe bring_ clothes.

The text message in question, Shizuru soon realized, was actually an MMS – a photo from Natsuki, of all people, which honestly surprised her a bit. While they had texted back and forth for brief moments since the younger woman had finally responded to her letter the previous week, they hadn't really exchanged anything but passing comments and obligatory pleasantries. Photos were definitely something new.

Shizuru settled herself cross-legged on the floor and tucked her hair behind her ear as she regarded the phone curiously. A few swipes of her fingers later, the screen was unlocked, and she felt her eyebrows rise in surprise at first, only to lower in confusion shortly after. The photo in question, after all, was of a girl she'd never in her life seen before. An almost scrawny child with sky-blue hair, deep, green eyes that she'd recognize anywhere, bits of ice cream – or so she supposed by the spoon and the empty glass in the foreground – dotted over the lower half of her face, and an expression that somehow managed to be a midway point between embarrassed, offended and exasperated.

___?_, she sent back, because she figured that would be enough to get her point across, and sure enough, it took all of ten seconds before the phone jingled in her hand again.

Although this time the short strand of music signaled a call, and she was so surprised that she entirely forgot to wonder, and instead simply answered.

"Hello?"

"___Hey!_" Natsuki's voice chuckled in her ear, almost electric with familiarity given how long it had been since she'd last heard it. "___Sorry – wrong number, believe it or not. I meant to send that to the slob's mother, but your last text was the active one and off it went__._"

"___I'm not a slob!_" a young voice insisted somewhere in the background.

"___Tell me that after you've cleaned your face, squirt,_" was Natsuki's amused response – somewhat muffled, and Shizuru presumed she'd shifted her own phone before speaking.

She didn't need to make any assumptions about whether or not she herself was confused, however – that was very much a given. "She looks a lot like you," she told the younger woman a little haltingly as her brain struggled to catch up.

"___I should hope so__,_" came the now un-muffled reply, though there was still a low roar of background noise. "___Chances are she shares... mm, probably about an eighth of my genes__._"

Well, that was clear as mud, wasn't it? Shizuru regarded the opposite wall pensively. She was definitely missing _something_ in this conversation, but no matter how much she wracked her memory, she couldn't for the life of her figure out what that something was.

"I suppose so?" she eventually offered.

"___God, I'm sorry__,_" Natsuki told her after a few seconds of silence and a short bark of laughter. "___You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?_"

"Not in the slightest," she agreed bemusedly. "But please feel free to enlighten me."

"___Where do I start?_" the younger woman mused, though Shizuru could pinpoint a rhetorical question when she heard one, and for that reason chose to busy herself with starting the Nth leaf-through of the _undecided_ pile while she waited. "___Long story short, Kaguya's my niece – my half-sister's daughter. I can always fill you in more when you get back, but she's far too smart for her own good, and apparently thinks she's the next Masaaki Hatsumi, judging by what happened today._"

She recognized the name easily enough, and cradled the phone between her face and shoulder with a chuckle while she folded a simple blouse. "I take it she got into some sort of a fight?"

"___Yup__._"

A grin that surely – surely – was easily audible. "Did she win?"

There was a few seconds of puzzled silence, followed by a "___... yeah?_", which judging by Natsuki's tone of voice loosely translated to ___What's your point?_

"Then apparently your niece doesn't simply _look _like you," she teased.

"___Shut up__."_

Shizuru laughed in delight. It was strange, but undeniably wonderful that they could talk the way they were when this was the first time in years that they'd even heard each other's voices. A sign, she reflected, of how important they were to each other, that they could apparently just pick up where they'd left off.

"Forgive me," she then requested around a smile once her mirth died down. "But I did miss that petulant note in your voice when I 'get you', as they say."

_"____Petulant?_" Natsuki complained. "___You make it sound like I'm an adolescent all over again__._"

Shizuru wisely didn't point out that the slight whine that accompanied the protest was doing a better job of that than she ever could. "I should probably get back to packing," she instead noted regretfully. "Not that I'm not enjoying the conversation."

"___It's fine__,_" the younger woman assured her. "___I need to take Kaguya home anyway, now that I've completely spoiled her dinner__._"

"Such a terrible influence," she tsked.

"___Obviously._" A low chuckle traveled through the signal, followed by a brief, thoughtful pause. "___Call me back if you have some time on your hands, will you? I missed talking to you__._"

"Alright." Shizuru didn't fight the slight smile that the request resulted in. "I will."

"___Good__._" There was a noticeable warmth in Natsuki's voice. "___If nothing else, call me when you land in Fuuka so I know you made it back in one piece, alright?_"

She gladly made that promise, and after an exchange of easy goodbyes, the call ended with a distinct lack of fanfare. Funny, really, given how it felt as if she'd just reached some sort of milestone, and Shizuru spent a few, quit moments examining that feeling – until a soft knock on the door brought her back.

"Come in, Papa," she called, and looked up from her seat on the floor as the door opened as her father stepped inside. "How did the meeting go?"

"About as well as could be expected." Fujino Hiraku was a tall man; lean and trim with a thick head of hair a few shades darker than his daughter's, and warm, nutmeg-colored eyes that regarded her as he came to a halt and surveyed the room. "You're as thorough as always, I see."

Shizuru smiled; both at the amused twinkle in her father's eyes and at the succinct reply in regards to the meeting he'd just returned from – even if the latter part lent a faint, wry tinge to her expression. "The board still isn't entirely pleased, I take it?"

"Not hardly," Hiraku agreed, though something in his voice suggested that wasn't something he was too concerned about. "Give them time," he continued as he loosened his tie with a grimace. "You are somewhat of a wildcard to them – they don't know you like your old father does."

No, that much was true, Shizuru considered. And honestly, she understood the reservations that the board of directors of Fujino Inc. had when it came to her appointment as CIO – something that had been approved mainly due to Hiraku's influence and the fact that between the two of them, they owned over fifty percent of the stock. Old, aristocratic line or not, she was still only a year out of university, and while she'd practically grown up in the company, she had only really gained any actual experience in the past twelve months. The board members were nervous, to say the least – also understandable, and something Shizuru could definitely relate to. After all, all the board had to do was watch; she was the one carrying all the responsibility.

Her father had no doubts that she could carry the weight and prove herself, however, and while Hiraku did have a tendency to dote on her, Shizuru knew him well enough to realize that he wasn't simply saying that to make her feel better. He wasn't the type of person to put on airs.

"How are things coming along at the Fuuka office?" she wondered aloud. "Have you heard anything new in the past week?"

"Nothing of any real interest." Hiraku removed his double-breasted blazer and settled it over one arm, then bent down to pat her on the shoulder. "Come have some tea with me, hm? You practically barricaded yourself in here after breakfast, and knowing you, you've been working ever since."

"They do say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Shizuru commented while she rose obligingly, and felt the familiar weight of a strong arm cradle her shoulders as the two of them left her bedroom and headed downstairs.

"Touché." Her father steered them both into the large, modern kitchen while a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But that doesn't mean you have to pick up every last one of my bad habits. I won't be there in person to prevent it any longer, starting next week."

Shizuru shook her head as she set about carefully mixing two different blends of tea – an odd but surprisingly flavorsome combination that Hiraku had come across by accident before Shizuru had even been born, and that they both enjoyed in equal measure now. "I won't be entirely on my own," she assured over the sound of her father setting out a pair of cups and a few other essentials. "Please don't worry too much, Papa."

The older man chuckled softly while he waited for the water to heat. "I do realize that you're a grown woman, Shi-chin," he promised. "But at the same time, you are my only child, and for that reason I'm allowed to worry about you for as long as I live – even if it is completely unfounded." He crossed over to where his daughter had finished preparing a well-used teapot, and collected it before gently pushing her towards the small dining table set against one wall below a wide window in return for an amused look. "Have you gotten the chance to speak to Kuga-han any further?"

A faint smile pulled at Shizuru's lips as she surveyed the spoons that her father had set out alongside the cups, and she abandoned the table in favor of the nearby refrigerator. "Yes." She retrieved two small, intricately decorated glass bowls; the dishes contained within were made with lime and colored a pale, fresh green. They were dessert dishes, but there was no harm in having them as snacks, either. "Natsuki and I talked just a few minutes ago," she explained as she set the bowls down on the table. "It was only briefly, but she did have to take her niece home."

"Her niece?" Hiraku cocked his head from his place at the stove. "Then I suppose that the chain worked."

The 'chain' in question was one from several years ago. One of the employees at the Fukokua offices had started asking around for anyone with ties to Fuuka who might have come across a young woman bearing the family name of Kuga, and those who couldn't help her instead agreed to ask others. Eventually, this chain of questions had wound its way all the way to the top of the company and into Hiraku's office by way of a secretary who had been asked during her lunch break, and while he himself didn't know the town or the woman in question, he most assuredly knew someone who did.

_"__I'm surprised that it's being done this way," he'd told his daughter when he'd called her room at Kyoto University later the same day. "The logical choice would be to simply search the registry, or maybe bring in a private investigator."_

_"__I doubt either of those would do much good," had been Shizuru's bemused reply."Natsuki knows how to hide if she wants to. Why is this woman trying to find her?"_

_"__From what I understand, Yukimura-han thinks your friend may well be her sister."_

And that, as the saying went, had just about been that. Hiraku knew that his daughter had done thorough investigations of her own, as well as considered the pros and cons of what she saw as meddling for a good deal of time before she'd decided. In the end, however, Shizuru had passed a simple letter on to him during one of her weekend visits, and asked him to make sure that it reached the right person. He had, and honestly hadn't heard another word about it until just now.

"It seems that way," Shizuru agreed; nodding her head as her father brought the now-filled teapot over to the table and sat down himself. "I'm glad. She sounded so much more open compared to the last time I spoke to her."

"Hardly surprising," he noted as he filled both of their cups. "If she's gotten accustomed to having a family over the past years, it's inevitable that those jagged edges you've told me so much about would soften somewhat."

Shizuru added a small dollop of honey to her tea and stirred it thoughtfully. She wasn't entirely sure that it was the concept of family in general that had caused the change that she'd noticed – Natsuki had little reason to trust such a thing, after all. But on the other hand, who was to say that her father wasn't right? Maybe Natsuki had been distrustful initially, and had just acclimatized herself – for lack of a better word – until she'd suddenly gotten used to having a family again.

"Shi-chin?" Her father's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she raised her head to meet his gaze. "Are you ready to see her again?"

"I am." She cradled the gently steaming cup in both hands. "The separation was hard at first, but it ultimately did what I wanted it do to."

Hiraku watched his only child close her eyes and sip her tea, and did the same, if only to stay his tongue. If his daughter was anything like him – and she certainly was in a multitude of ways – then she wasn't simply one who fell hard, but one who fell _loyally_. Much like he had for her mother once upon a time, and even all these years later, he had certainly never met anyone who could compare.

Ah, well. He spooned a bit of the dessert into his mouth and savored the taste and the memories it evoked. Like her mother had, Shizuru would do what she deemed best and let the chips fall where they did. All he could do was watch.

"Excellent as always," he complimented the young woman, and took another spoonful. "It tastes just like your mother's."

Shizuru's lips curved into a faint, slightly melancholy smile. "It is her recipe, after all."

xXxXx

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

The words were uttered into a near-silence that was only broken by the gentle ticking of a tall clock set against one wall. The speaker was a woman who seemed to be somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, with shoulder-length, dark hair and dressed in a style that served the dual purpose of looking appropriate for company, but remaining informal enough that stains or tears wouldn't cause any real fuss. She was standing with her hands on her hips next to a comfortably assigned entertainment area that featured a large TV, a wide, low couch and two matching recliners. One of the chairs was currently occupied by a younger, less compact version of her - one whose eyes were a clear, brilliant green, rather a deep, warm brown.

Natsuki rolled her eyes. "For the hundredth time, Nee-chan, yes," she insisted, and finished wiggling her feet into a pair of elegant, high-heeled shoes. "You of all people know that place has a business casual dress code. I can't show up for an interview in trainers."

"No," Akiko agreed bemusedly, and smothered a smile when the younger woman attempted to get to her feet and ended up sitting right back down. "But what I meant was that it's late enough that you'll wake Kaguya up if you fall flat on your face."

"Your confidence in me is astounding," came the dry retort, and this time Natsuki managed to get to her feet with a minimum of wobbling while dutifully ignoring her older sister's carefully blanked expression. "It's not like I can learn how to do this by reading a book."

Very true. "You could have started by picking some shoes of mine with lower heels to try, though."

"Maybe," she allowed, and remained merely standing while she waited for her feet to get used to this new positioning. "But you know I always jump in headfirst." Her center of balance was off, she could tell, and Natsuki carefully shifted her stance until she found one that allowed it to settle before taking a few steps.

"Whoa!" Akiko grabbed her by the shoulders as she wavered dangerously. "Easy, Imouto. Try to get used to walking slowly before you attempt running, alright?"

Natsuki sighed. She knew perfectly well that Akiko was making at least ten kinds of sense, but that didn't help the fact that she hated it when there was something she couldn't do – especially when it took any amount of time for her to learn how to do it.

"I'm impatient," she noted wryly, and kept one hand on the older woman's shoulder for balance as she tried those few steps again – if a good deal slower this time.

"Oh, I know," Akiko chuckled, and gamely kept pace beside her as the two of them started lazily circling the living room. "You want everything to happen yesterday, if at all possible."

"Pretty much," Natsuki agreed. "At least I still have a few days left to figure this out in. I woulda started earlier, but my last paper just about kicked my butt."

"Mm." Akiko grabbed a quick hold of the back of her v-neck when she wavered again. "And you've yet to explain exactly how you know Fujino-san – not to mention why you seem so set on impressing her."

___Impressing her?_ Natsuki considered that description for a few heartbeats, and kept her eyes on her feet as she thought. Was she really? She reflected on that notion, and her brow furrowed when she realized that her sister was absolutely spot on. She _did _want Shizuru to be impressed when the two of them saw each other again, but why? Out of some childish need to prove to her that she'd gotten by fine without her? To make her feel the faintest twinge of the hurt that she herself had felt when Shizuru just up and left, all those years ago?

Natsuki wrinkled her nose, and dearly hoped that wasn't her motivation for all this. She did like to think that she had grown up enough to get past things like that.

"I don't know why I want to impress her," she then admitted out loud for Akiko's benefit. "I didn't even realize that until you mentioned it."

"But you do know her, I take it?" the older woman responded, and sent her a curious glance.

"Yeah." She shifted half of her focus back to her feet, and was relatively pleased with the slight improvements that she found. "I met her my final year of middle school. For a very long time, she... was the only person I actually trusted."

"What happened?"

"She left." Even now, those words left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she shoved it away. "After she finished high school here, she returned to Kyoto without a word to anyone, and I didn't see or hear of her again until I saw her on the news last month."

"And yet you're borrowing our car to pick her up at the airport?" To say that Akiko sounded incredulous would be putting it mildly, and Natsuki cringed slightly at the dangerous spark in her sister's eyes. "You want to impress her?! Why do you even want to _see _her?!"

"Down, Cujo," Natsuki quickly joked; knowing full well that humor was the best way to counteract just about any flaring of Akiko's temper. "Don't hold it against her – I wasted enough time with that myself. Shizuru had her reasons."

"Reasons?!" Deep, brown eyes stared at her. "Natsuki, you just told me that you trusted this woman, and that she for all intents and purposes _abandoned _you! What possible reason could be good enough f-!"

Natsuki quirked an eyebrow once she'd stopped the flood of anger by unceremoniously clapping her hand over Akiko's mouth. "She was in love with me," she explained quietly. "I have no idea if that means that she's gay, and I honestly don't care. If she is, and it isn't common knowledge, I do _not _want to be the cause of the information spreading – in short; not a word of this leaves this house. Okay?" She waited for her sister to nod, and only then removed her hand. "Thanks for the defensive block, though."

"Hm." The brown eyes remained narrowed for a few moments longer, until the tension left Akiko's shoulders in perfect time with a slow sigh escaping her lips. "Well, it's a family trait," she eventually remarked. "I'm protective of my little sister."

"Younger sister," Natsuki corrected dutifully. "I'm taller than you even without heels."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Imouto," Akiko snorted, and the two of them resumed their slow trek around the room. "The few inches you're taller than me don't get much use, anyway."

"Funny."

xXxXx

"___Welcome to Fuuka Airport,_" a friendly, female voice greeted by way of the overhead system. "___For safety reasons, please keep your luggage with you at all times. Unattended baggage will be removed by security. Thank you, and enjoy your travels._"

It was almost refreshing how small this building was, Shizuru considered as she leaned back against an unoccupied bit of wall near the baggage claim. Fuuka Airport was – as the lack of the word 'international' suggested – not a very large example of its kind. It held a grand total of five gates in a single terminal, and it was entirely possible to walk from one end of it to the other in less than five minutes. A distinct counterpoint to the much larger and busier airport in Kansai, at which she'd said goodbye to her father just a little over two hours ago.

She could certainly appreciate the smaller crowd, she mused as she watched her fellow passengers mill around the small room while they waited for the revolving belt to start up and start spewing out the luggage from their flight; some of them meandering over to the sliding glass door that exited into the main building to wave at someone in the small gathering of humanity waiting beyond. Flying had a tendency to result in a mild, yet irritating headache that was more of a pressure behind her eyes than anything else, and unfortunately today was no exception. All she really wanted to do was collect her luggage, find a taxi to take her home, and lie down.

But for now, she was stuck waiting here until the baggage had been taken inside. She might as well use the time to make good on a promise.

"___Did you land safely?_" Natsuki asked instantly after picking up her phone. "___Or did your flight crash horribly and you're actually calling from the beyond?_"

Shizuru chuckled softly. "Unless the beyond is simply a carbon copy of the world we know, I must have landed safely." She listened to the whoosh in the background, and tilted her head curiously. "Is this a bad time?"

"___Hm? Nah; just waiting for the train,_" Natsuki responded. "___Sorry if it's a bit a loud here – I found the most quiet spot I could, but I didn't have a lot to choose from._"

"It's alright," she promised just as a low, mechanical hum started up off to her side. "I can hear you just fine, and I should probably let you go, all the same. The baggage is being sent out, and I have every intention of collecting my own, going directly to the house and laying down."

"___Bad flight?_" came the curious inquiry.

"The flight was fine," she replied. "I've just developed an annoying tendency to get headaches whenever I do have to fly anywhere."

"___Developed? What,____based on your numerous journeys and year-long affiliation with air travel__?_"

"Something like that, yes." Shizuru smiled. "I should go. See you tomorrow?"

"___You bet__._" The grin on Natsuki's face was easily audible. "___See you soon__._"

Shizuru ended the call and settled her phone in the inside pocket of her jacket, then took the few steps over to the conveyor belt and watched the numerous suitcases start to lazily travel along its length. Most of them were black, of course, and she noticed several instances of someone approaching a particular one, examining it and then letting it continue on its way. Thankfully, she decided as she claimed her own two pieces of red-and-black checkered luggage, she had enough sense to buy and use suitcases that actually stood out. She quickly checked them over for any damage sustained during the short trip, and when she found none, wheeled them behind her as she followed the smattering of travelers out through the sliding doors and into the long, wide hall that made up the frontmost part of the building.

Beyond the door, most of her fellow passengers met up with friends, family or lovers waiting for them, and Shizuru found a smile for the laughter and hugs being exchanged all around her as she weaved a careful path through the small crowd. She did feel a little left out, honestly, even if she wasn't the only one simply passing by with an indulgent expression, but really, it wasn't as if she had told anyone when she'd be arriving, so she could hardly expect anyone to be waiting for her, could she?

"Ojou-san?" A gruff voice from behind her intruded on her thoughts. "Do you need help with your luggage?"

"No thank you," she started responding politely, even before she turned her head. "I'm managing just fine on my-" The words abruptly died on her tongue when she spotted the speaker, and was suddenly faced with a set of very familiar – and amusingly smug – clear, green eyes.

"... own?" she finished lamely.

"Hi there," Natsuki drawled – with her normal voice this time - and really looked entirely too pleased with herself. "Surprise?"

That was definitely one word for it, Shizuru considered as she took in the young woman standing in front of her and tried to get over the shock her sudden appearance had caused. The air of admittedly well-deserved smugness, the easy half-grin on her face and the comfortable near-arrogance in her posture... it was a far cry indeed from the awkward, often sullen girl she remembered.

"Shizuru?" A finger flicked at her forehead and made her blink rapidly. "You alright?"

"Forgive me," she finally rallied, and shook her head at herself with a chuckle. "As you may have realized by now, 'surprise' doesn't really seem to cover it. How did you know when I would arrive?"

"It wasn't exactly rocket science," Natsuki informed her with a shrug of her shoulders. "There are three flights from Kansai to Fuuka on Saturdays, and only one of them is in the afternoon." She folded her arms across her chest and quirked a slight grin. "I spent... maybe two minutes figuring it out?"

"Oh?" Shizuru feigned a pout. "So it wasn't a horrible, tedious task done solely because Natsuki missed me and couldn't wait another day to see me again?"

The younger woman rolled her eyes. "One, I did miss you," she agreed straightforwardly. "Two, no teasing until you pay the fee."

"Fee?" She felt her brow furrow in confusion. "How do you mean?"

"I am not gonna do this awkwardness thing," Natsuki replied, and gestured back and forth between the two of them with one hand. "I want my best friend back, so you're not allowed to tease me until you give me a hug."

That was an easy enough request to fulfill, and Shizuru laughed softly as she obliged – stepping fully into Natsuki's personal space and feeling a set of arms encircle her tightly.

"I'm sorry," she told her. "I just don't remember you as being very open to physical affection."

"I got over it," was the wry response not far from her own ear. And then, in a lower tone and with a firmer squeeze of the arms wrapped around her: "Damn, I missed you. Don't you _ever_ pull this shit again."

There was a faint pang of guilt in her chest at that, Shizuru acknowledged privately, though it was matched by the warmth also caused by both the tone of Natsuki's voice and the nearness of her after having missed her for so long. In fact, the warmth more than equaled the guilt, and almost succeeded in drowning it out completely.

Almost.

"I would have done it differently if I could," she offered as she pulled back. She wouldn't say that she wished she hadn't done it, because that wouldn't be true, and Shizuru wasn't about to lie about something that important if she could avoid it. She truly had needed the time away from Natsuki, and while she did wish that she could have gone about procuring that time in another way, there was little to be gained in praying for flying fishes. The best either of them could do was to go on from here.

"I know." Natsuki regarded her, and the corner of her lips twitched slightly. "But I understand why, you know? So _if _you're still feeling guilty about it, stop. I get it, and as far as I'm concerned, we're fine."

"Alright." She inclined her head with a smile, and decided to change the subject. If they were to have that discussion – and they probably needed to at some point – then the middle of an airport really wasn't the ideal choice of locations. "You look fantastic, by the way," she therefore told the younger woman with perfect honesty as she started towards the main doors once more. "University life must be agreeing with you."

"I wouldn't go quite that far," Natsuki muttered as she fell into step next to her, and then scowled as she claimed one of the suitcases and fought off Shizuru's attempts at taking it back. "Stop that – the damn thing has wheels. It's not like I'm lugging fifty kilos up a mountain path."

Shizuru shook her head, but decided to let her companion do as she wanted in this case. "You aren't enjoying university?" she asked instead, and used the free hand she now had to adjust the collar on her light jacket as they left the terminal building in favor of the brilliant sunshine of a late afternoon.

"Didn't say that," the younger woman chuckled. "Nah, I like it well enough. It's just that my final year started barely a month ago and it's already kicking my ass." A still-cool breeze swirled past them, and she reached up to brush a few strands of hair back out of her face. "I'll manage, but I'm sure I'll be close to ripping my hair out several times before I graduate."

"At least you should be well-prepared for life in the workforce," Shizuru quipped, and smiled at the definite 'look' she got in reply. "What? Don't tell me you expected it to get easier?"

"I'll be happy as long as I don't have to deal with homework anymore," Natsuki remarked wryly. "And I really hope that you're better at motivating your employees than your friends. You have a funny way of giving pep-talks for someone with a fancy, three-letter title."

"Ah." She thought that over. "That's common knowledge here, I take it?"

"All over the news lately." Natsuki didn't even pause by the collection of cabs parked in a specific area, and instead continued walking.

"Where are you going?" Shizuru wondered.

Green eyes regarded her. "I'm driving you home," the younger woman informed her. "I mean, if that's okay? I wasn't planning on just showing up, saying hi and then sending you on your way."

"No, that's perfectly alright." She certainly preferred driving with a friend, though she supposed she would have to make very good use of taxis until she could get her hands on a car of her own. "Please tell me you came here in a car, though. I really don't think you, I and my luggage would fit on your motorcycle."

Natsuki laughed. "Come on, Shizuru." She bumped her lightly with one shoulder. "I'm a science major – give me some credit, would you? Yeah, I drove here in a car." One hand raised, and pointed to a silver sedan parked in one of the rows closest to the building. "That one."

"Your sister's?" she hazarded.

"Mm." Natsuki pulled a small collection of keys from her pocket, and the press of a button on one of them resulted in an obedient chirp from the vehicle. "Are you going to the old house, or...?"

"The old house, please," Shizuru confirmed, and hoisted her suitcase into the trunk after Natsuki opened it. "It should have been cleaned and prepared sometime this week, which is probably a good thing," she noted wryly. "I'm ashamed to say that being out of the dorms for a year has just about destroyed my habits. Papa has a small crew come in once a week to take care of the house in Kyoto."

"Hm." Natsuki settled the second suitcase into the trunk as well, and closed the hatch with a solid thunk. "How did that happen, anyway?"

"How did what happen?"

"You finishing early," the younger woman clarified over the roof of the car before the two of them entered and seated themselves. "You were a year ahead of me, so you should really only have graduated last month, shouldn't you?"

"Ah." Shizuru buckled her seatbelt and waited for the initial roar of the engine to die down. "Well, I didn't have many distractions in Kyoto. School was really my sole focus, and I ended up completing my undergraduate degree in two years, rather than three."

Natsuki snorted, and carefully backed the car out of the parking space. "Braniac."

"This from the science major," she retorted dryly.

"Pffft."


	3. Respect

For disclaimers, please see part one.

**Author's long-hand:**  
Am I the only one who's just now realized that if you take 'Tokyo' and move the first two letters to the end, you get 'Kyoto'? Wonky. Especially when Kyoto (near as I know) _used_ to be the capital city, until that honor shifted to Tokyo.

Meh. In regards to the subject of _Kamon_ (Japanese family crests), the one I describe for the Fujino family in here doesn't actually exist near as I can find. The single, rising wisteria I mention is - on its own - apparently the kamon of the _Fujiwara Clan_, which you may remember me fictitiously linking Shizuru to in _On Location_. The blades I added to it... well, those should be self-explanatory, yes?

Natsuki's prospective wages are based off of an Executive Assistant's average, pre-taxes compensation in the US. I added a sizeable portion to it, both because large corporations tend to pay more and because she's not just assisting an executive, but a C-level one (CEO, CPIO/CPO, COO, CIO, etc. are C-levels). I then knocked off a good percentage since she isn't working full time and is essentially there as part of a work-study program, but an annual salary of 4.5 million yen still equates to roughly $45000, _pro tempore_. If the fact that Natsuki even _gets_ a salary calls for a little suspension of disbelief, so be it. My fic, my take on things. ;) Besides, it's Hiraku's call in the end, and he strikes me as a bit of an oddball that way.

Enjoy!

(R-E-S-P-E-C-T~! Now that you have that song in your head, it probably makes for some... choice... background music for the chapter, but screw that. Sing it!)

**Respect**

* * *

While Fuuka was considered a medium-sized town by common, Japanese standards, this was decided mainly by way of the residency figures. The town itself had several thousand individuals living within its borders, but that didn't take into account the fact that it was in many ways the unofficial capital of its area, which meant that during business hours, the amount of people swelled to far more than twice its usual number by way of workers, students and the odd tourist.

Downtown Fuuka – on the coast where the local commercial district was housed – was admittedly no match for that of Tokyo or even Kyoto, Shizuru considered as she rested her folded hands on the briefcase in her lap. But still, it housed several tall office buildings – moreso now than she remembered from the few times she'd passed through the area during her high school years – and near as she knew, gainfully employed a large number of people from both Fuuka and the surrounding smaller communities.

Communities that didn't quite qualify as suburbs just yet, she mused as she watched the scenery flit past the cab's windows, or their residence numbers would add to Fuuka's and probably have the town elevated to city status immediately. Not that it would have any impact on her either way, but it was something to think about and busy her mind with until the ride was over, and she could see the new building first-hand.

Normally, Shizuru would have seated herself up front and made small talk with the driver, since that was both an enjoyable way to pass the time, and had also proven a very useful manner of gaining insight into whichever area she was in. No one knew a neighborhood better than someone who spent a good deal of time in it, after all. But today was her first official day in her new position as the Chief Information Officer of her family's firm, and while Shizuru had always had some measure of spotlight resting on her, it was nothing compared to being shifted directly into the C-level executive group and largely expected to fail spectacularly.

Nervous didn't even come close to describing how she felt.

She was well aware that the scrutiny she would be under as of today was nothing personal on behalf of the board of directors; she'd met all the members at least once over the past year and generally found them to be amiable, intelligent men. She was, however, also aware of the fact that their best interests matched those of the company and its shareholders, which was exactly as it should be. So to have someone with as little experience as she had be put into such a prominent position was honestly giving the board a collective hive, and had, as she well knew, happened more due to her father's clout and connections than any talent on her part.

Shizuru had every intention of rising to the occasion, but she was willing to admit – at least to herself - that she was feeling more than just a little intimidated by the whole thing, too. So she'd seated herself on the taxi's backseat for this early, Monday morning drive; keeping silent apart from the initial exchange of pleasantries, and instead trying to keep herself from thinking about what the job would be like until she actually arrived at the site.

Hence her current, pseudo-philosophical ponderings on the status of Fuuka and its general area.

"Here we are, ojou-san," the driver spoke up as the car rolled to a gentle stop. "Did you need another taxi later in the day?"

Shizuru considered that as she retrieved her wallet and paid the fare. "I probably will," she eventually agreed; she was planning acquiring a car of her own over the next couple of days, but for now, she'd have to rely on either taxis or public transportation. "But I don't know when I'll be leaving, so I'd rather call your dispatch." She gave the middle-aged man a smile, and opened her door. "Thank you, though."

The man exchanged obligatory, if sincere, well-wishes with her before pulling his vehicle away from the curb, and Shizuru spent a few seconds breathing the still-chilly, salt-tinged air while she adjusted the way her medium-length, dark coat fell across her shoulders a trifle self-consciously. Beneath it, her chosen outfit obeyed the company's 'business formal' dress code by way of a tailored, conservative burgundy suit; pants as opposed to a skirt in deference to the cool morning, and the matching jacket settled over a white silk shirt that had been neatly tucked in.

On the other side of the road, what little flat land there was before the coastline dipped down to the bay had been transformed into a long, narrow park, and the slowly emerging leaves had the fresh, green color of spring; just barely visible in the faint light that came in pale beams from between the buildings behind her as the sun slowly rose. A striking contrast against the deeper, greenish-blue of the ocean, Shizuru decided as she enjoyed the sight of the swooping gulls and the lack of traffic or noise at this early hour; one hand coming up to play with the necklace she wore.

For jewelry it was very unassuming; just a simple gold chain with a raw crystal pendant. A remarkably evenly colored, deep purple amethyst to be exact, and something she'd developed the habit of rubbing between her fingers whenever she wore it – which was often – and needed to calm herself. It had been given to her by her father on her 20th birthday, though up until then it had been stored in Hiraku's safe deposit box in the bank. Not because of its economical value, which honestly wasn't very high, but more due to its sentimental value, since it had been a favorite bauble of her mother's.

A lone seagull calling overhead drew Shizuru from her thoughts, and she shook her head with a small smile as she turned on her heel and strode towards the first row of tall structures. The front-most buildings were the most modern and polished-looking ones; logical enough, she decided, since any waterfront property undoubtedly counted as prime real estate and therefore tended to attract the wealthiest occupants, whether private or commercial. The massive building that housed – and was owned by – Fujino Inc. was one of them, and at 20-odd stories, it stretched a good deal higher into the air than its neighbors, while its carefully designed glass front reflected the magnificent bayside view beautifully. The building itself had a roughly rectangular footprint; the wider sides serving as the front and back respectively, and Shizuru knew that the remainder of the mostly square lot set had been aside for a small, green area on the rear side.

As she climbed the stone steps to the main entrance, Shizuru unzipped her coat and reached beneath it for the ID-card clipped to her belt that she'd thankfully been issued well in advance. 'Thankfully' not only because it served as proof of identity on a corporate level, but also because the company's ID-cards all had a tiny chip embedded in them; pre-programmed to grant entrance only to the areas that the individual carrier actually needed to access. For the CIO that meant pretty much anywhere; an entry-level clerk, however, would be much more restricted in where he or she could go, though anyone with a card and the matching PIN could enter the building they worked in no matter the hour, since the company offered flextime to a large portion of its employee base.

Good thing, too, Shizuru considered as she pressed the hashtag key on the small, wall-mounted box that made up the card reader, then held her card in front of it and waited for the resulting beep to sound before entering her 6-digit code. Because right now it was barely six in the morning, and she was fairly sure that the only people in the building were the security guards.

The reader beeped again, and displayed the words _Entry time registered_ before the door opened. The door in question was actually two separate panels of steel-encased glass that opened outwards and granted admission into a small box that was barely two square feet – just big enough to hold a single person. Shizuru stepped into the lock, and as soon as the outer panels had closed behind her with a soft click, two similar ones slid open in front of her and allowed her to enter the large lobby. While this was the most secure way to control access to the building, it wasn't the fastest way of getting people in and out, but that was why there was also a double set of large, more common sliding glass doors; both for visitors, and in case of an emergency that required an evacuation. Those, however, were locked outside of normal business hours unless the security department said otherwise. Shizuru knew from her perusal of the approved plans for the structure that several other locks were spaced out on all four sides of the building's ground floor, and that those too could be opened fully on - and from - both sides, should the worst happen.

Her heels echoed noisily in the silent lobby, which was in no way made any better by the polished, patterned granite tile that covered both the floor and the walls, though hopefully the raised pond in the center and the low plants lining it provided some sort of absorption. If not, she decided, the simple fountain that would switch on at 8 AM sharp would at least supply something more pleasant to listen to as the large space got progressively more populated.

Shizuru nodded to the lone guard currently sitting at the security desk, and made a mental note to see about having the lobby's decor tweaked for better noise reduction. Granted, the space was mostly designed to impress as well as serve as an atrium – evident from the large, open space that continued up, up and up above the fountain until it reached a massive skylight in the roof and was surrounded by railed walkways on all four sides - but if a single person merely walking across it caused this kind of an echo, she really didn't want to know how loud it could get when filled with people. Besides, she considered as she pressed the button to call one of the elevators, she was the ranking officer at this location, and to have the physical work environment run as smoothly as possible was also on her list of responsibilities.

Along with a thousand other things, she reminded herself as she exited the elevator a few moments later and turned down a wide hallway that was lined with doors on either side. The motion-sensitive lamps reacted to her presence and flickered to life as she walked; bathing the space in clear light and revealing the insulating, black carpeting and the sombre, pale gray walls and white doors, ceilings and trimmings. Monochrome and professional, with the only splashes of color coming from the occasional piece of horticulture, or the artworks spaced out on the walls.

Staid, dignified and businesslike.

Boring, honestly, Shizuru decided as she beeped through the single door at the very end of the hall, but it nevertheless projected an air of solidity that was required for a firm as large and old as this one. After all, the company had started out as a small, local shipping business several generations back, and had focused on that for a long time before expanding into trade, and if she remembered correctly, then into steel production and other decidedly more industrial pursuits. Those were no longer the chief breadwinners – had indeed given way to high technology, information services and the at times nail-biting intensity of investment banking years back – but the steel mills and the majority of the few available mines in the northern parts of the country belonged to them, and provided a strong backbone for what was now primarily a white-collar enterprise, rather than a blue-collar one.

Fujino Incorporated had major shares in very few markets, but minor to medium ones in almost all of them. Diversity, her father always said, was the key to staying strong – even in a weak economy.

The handle-less door slid shut behind her, and she waited a few seconds for the lamps to react in this room as well. Once they did, the outer area for her own office was revealed – an elongated space with white carpeting rather than the black outside, and the walls painted in warm, earthy tones. A workstation with a semi-circular desk and a stationary computer was tucked against the wall to her left below a wide seascape; turned so that the occupant – presumably the woman who had been assigned as her admin – would be able to face both the entrance and the two padded benches nestled in the furthest, right corner. There were two more doors in here; one at the opposite end of the room from where she stood, and one halfway down the right wall.

Shizuru opened the closer of the two doors first, but it didn't take her many seconds to decide that this wasn't the office she was supposed to occupy. Nice as it looked, it was too empty and impersonal; only outfitted with the very bare essentials of a desk with a phone below a wide window, a chair, a row of empty bookcases around a second door in the left wall, and a small conference table nestled against the right wall. Certainly not anything that looked like it had been outfitted by someone who knew the occupant well.

So no, probably not hers. Shizuru shut the door again, and studied the small, empty metal frame mounted to it at approximate eye-level. It was more likely that this space was meant to be inhabited by an assistant, which was a position that her father had pointed out the importance of time and again. And one that would possibly be filled very soon, as she'd briefly discussed with Natsuki the previous day when the younger woman had visited her.

"_An assistant?" came the strangely unfamiliar, familiar voice. "Okay? Why are you asking me about it?"_

"_Yes, an assistant." Shizuru had returned to the sitting area with a can of soda for her guest and a can of tea for herself – a testament to the bare essentials the house had been stocked with in time for her arrival - and made a mental note to find a grocery store as soon as possible. "And I'm asking you because the woman currently being considered is apparently in the final year of her master's program at the university here." She'd seated herself and worked the can open. "In the biosciences, nonetheless, which means she's probably in at least one of your classes."_

"_Huh." Natsuki had cocked her head while she popped the top on her own drink with a fizz, and regarded her pensively over the rim of the can as she sipped it. "Well, none of my classmates have said anything about working for you that I've heard," she then said. "Sorry."_

"_It's fine," she'd promised, and rested her chin on a loosely curled fist. "I'm just curious. She's supposed to be quite brilliant, even if she has no actual experience with the business side of things, which makes her a bit of a wildcard." She'd quirked an eyebrow. "As if I wasn't bad enough, hm?"_

_The younger woman had chuckled. "I plead the fifth, wrong country or not," she'd noted, and then sent her a decidedly wry look. "Seriously, though, I can't believe you don't even have her name!"_

"_I know." Shizuru had groaned softly and covered her eyes with one hand. "I've just been tied up with so many tiny little details... some of them keep slipping through the cracks, and it's honestly getting on my nerves," she'd admitted. "I suppose I can only hope that I'll get along with her – if the past week is any indication, I certainly can't afford to **not** have an assistant whether it's full-time or not. I'm dropping balls left and right as it is."_

"_You'll be fine."_

The single, remaining door in the outer office had the same, empty frame secured to its surface by way of a pair of screws, and the polished metal glinted warmly at her as she nudged the heavy, oak door open.

Ah - now this looked more like something that had been set aside for her; not because the room was larger, Shizuru reflected, nor because it was obviously a corner office judging by the full-sized windows that made up the entire opposite wall, as well as the smaller, though still large one set into the wall to her right. It was far more due to the fact that the walls here had been painted a faded, subtle shade of violet while the carpet, the curtains and the furniture were all done in creamy, pale whites. Her favorite colors lent a cheery, yet impossibly professional air to the entire room, and had her father's figurative fingerprints all over them.

On the opposite side from the door – nestled close to the wall and with its back to the ocean view – was a high-backed, leather chair behind a wide elevation desk that currently housed a phone, a docking station, two large, flat-screen monitors and an assortment of office supplies that included a filled post-it dispenser, a metal, mesh cup of differently colored pens, and twin, clear glass sorters; one with three spaces and the other with one only – for incoming and outgoing files respectively, or so she assumed. In the right-most corner, two low couches nestled against the walls by an equally low table, and against the left wall was several uneven rows of wall-mounted shelves; already partially filled with books on various subjects, storage boxes and – of course – ringbinders.

Shizuru set her briefcase down on the desk and clicked it open to remove her laptop, which in turn was placed into its docking station with a snick before she closed the briefcase once more and set it down against the side of the table. Then she pulled the chair out, and with a definite trickle of _something_ along the length of her spine, sat down in it.

In her chair. At her desk. In her office.

As the CIO of a major corporation.

_What on earth am I doing here? _she wondered, and had make a conscious effort to slow down her breathing as the knowledge of who and where she now was settled into place in a way that it just hadn't until now. "I'm 24 years old," she whispered to herself, and in the privacy of the large room, let her face drop into her hands. "I'm not ready to be the head of anything but my own home."

And yet, here she was; as prepared as she possibly could have gotten herself, but still feeling very much like she was in way over her head.

Shizuru sighed as the computer finished booting and presented her with a splash-screen by way of a small, musical interlude, and resolutely entered her password.

All she could do was to make the best of it.

xXxXx

There was a significantly larger amount of natural light brightening the office when a soft noise pulled Shizuru from her perusal of the Nth account deep in the recesses of the Fuuka customer database, and she blinked a few times. It almost felt like coming out of a trance, she mused idly, and decided that that description probably wasn't far off when at glance at the clock told her that it was now just past eight; meaning that she'd spent two hours with her head buried in her monitors, though it honestly felt like it had only been a moment since she'd sat down.

The sound made her ears prick again; a barely audible, almost scratching noise that tickled her curiosity and made her stand and cross over to the door to the outer office, which seemed to be where it was coming from.

"Oh!" The middle-aged woman standing just on the other side of the door startled noticeably when Shizuru pulled it open, which – as these things often did – in turn startled the executive herself.

A good thing that it usually only resulted in one surprise for each person involved, Shizuru considered wryly as she let the breath she'd snapped in slowly trickle out between her lips again. If not, she could easily see any scare rapidly devolving into a chorus of squeaks, squeals or screams depending on the situation, and there just wasn't a whole lot of dignity in two or more people standing around either chittering like squirrels or screeching like monkeys for hours on end, as if taking part in some bizarre variant of disharmonious ping-pong.

A mental image that she determinedly pushed out of her head before her imagination could conjure it up and send her into a fit of giggles.

"Forgive me," she instead apologized, and bowed lightly at the waist. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The other woman, she noted, wasn't a particularly tall example of her gender; she stood at about five feet even, and had the slight, but noticeable extra softness added to her frame that usually came along with age. Her eyes were dark – as was her hair – though the latter was sprinkled with the faintest dustings of gray at the temples, as well as pulled back into an austere bun that stood at a distinct counterpoint to the minute lines on her face; all of which looked to have come far more from smiling or laughing than frowning.

And smile she did now, as she sketched a return bow. "Not at all, Fujino-sama," she replied. "I wasn't expecting you to be in the office quite this early – that's all."

Shizuru couldn't truly fault her for that: she wasn't due to start her day until eight herself, and had only shown up as early as she had because it had been a choice between that and possibly crawling the walls at home.

"I suppose not," she then responded, and formed a smile of her own. "I take it that you are my administrative assistant? May I ask what you were doing?"

"I am," the older woman nodded, and then bowed again. "Yamuri Kina, Fujino-sama. I'm pleased to be working with you," she promised, and then gestured behind Shizuru's back to the now open door. "And I was merely putting your sign in place – it was delivered just this morning."

"A pleasure to meet you," Shizuru responded genuinely, and waited for the older woman to smile and return to her own desk before turning to study the metal plate that had now taken up residence in the small frame she'd noticed earlier. The plate was cut from brushed metal – either steel or aluminum – with her title and name embossed on the surface in black. Below her name was an additional detail that Shizuru supposed wasn't to be found on many name plates in the company; here or in any of the other offices. The Fujino family was frugal with very, very few things, but the family _kamon_ was definitely one of them.

Aware of Kina's low voice behind her as the older woman answered the lowly ringing phone, Shizuru raised a finger and carefully traced the circle with its single, rising wisteria blossom and the twin blades crossing below. No one unrelated to the old line would ever see this attached to their name, but she was hardly surprised to see it beneath her own. Not that the few cousins she had were in any way considered anything but family by most – their formal kimonos were decorated with the Fujino kamon on equal footing with those belonging to the remaining, living members of the line - but Shizuru was the only blood-related member of the up-and-coming generation, and she knew it. It was hard not to, really, given how her grandparents tended to treat her as the _only_ member.

Unfortunate, but not something she could do anything about, so she pushed the thought away and re-entered her office with a slight smile to her admin before closing the door.

The extensive databases were now abandoned given the hour, and Shizuru meticulously closed down her sessions before switching to her e-mail program. Had it been the first time she'd connected to it under her corporate login, it would undoubtedly have taken some time for the program to pull her info and perform the initial connections, not to mention for her to set it up the way she preferred it to be. Thankfully, though, she'd started up all her installed software at least once since she'd gotten her hands on the machine about a week ago, so all she really had to wait for was for her mail to be downloaded.

Shizuru watched the bold lines fill her inbox, and was wryly grateful that she'd also taken the time to switch off the sound that heralded a new message arriving. Granted, some fifty-odd unread mails wasn't that many, but the count had been zero when she'd closed the client down at roughly 10 pm the previous night.

She scrolled down lower on the list to start with the oldest, and started reading. At least they seemed to be more of the same in the sense that they all centered on projects and dealings that she was being copied on. Things she was supposed to know about and form an opinion on, but nothing she actually had anything to do with. At the moment, anyway.

It was still a struggle for her to keep track of the departments, teams, clients and individuals being mentioned, and she spent several moments looking up the abbreviations assigned to any in-house SBU and its underlying units. The corporate structure was an intricate web of interrelationships, and even though she'd grown up in the company, there were large parts of it that she'd never encountered. As the CIO, however, she was sure she'd need to know how everything connected to everything else; even if that wasn't the case, she'd certainly have the same expectation put on her because of her name.

Better safe and all that.

Shizuru called up her mind-mapping program, and clicked her way deeper into a specific branch; then sent the mail currently displayed on her second monitor a glance before editing an entry. She was, she readily acknowledged, relying very heavily on the notes she was taking herself to keep track of everything. Certainly, there were several tools and very comprehensive databases already available, and she was making good use of those as well. Their main disadvantage, however, was that the way they were set up didn't always meld well with her own way of thinking.

Remembering relationships and locations was at best tricky and at worst downright impossible, so she'd started using this nifty little bit of programming instead, and was now not-so-slowly building a knowledgebase of her own; one that consisted mainly of brief notes of her own making and links to relevant entries in the existing systems. And also one that fit much better with her own – apparently somewhat quirky – brand of logic.

The time had only barely ticked past 9 o'clock when she'd gotten her number of unread e-mails into the single digits, and with just over 20 minutes to go before the interview she was supposed to conduct this morning, she finally felt that she had the time and background knowledge to give her prospective, executive assistant a closer look. On paper, anyway.

Her fingers settled on the plain, tan file folder that was waiting off to her right-hand side, and she pulled it closer before flipping it open and starting to study the contents in earnest. The papers contained were arranged in what most would probably describe as a bit backwards, and Shizuru idly decided that that was probably another instance of her sense of logic deviating slightly from the norm. The first things were detailed descriptions of what this woman had been studying most recently, and continued on through her latest exam results, then through her undergraduate degree and the school projects she'd taken part in during that time. Everything was coupled with several hand-written notes done in bright, red ink – notes that she knew came from the professor who served as the guidance counselor for the woman in question.

Kamiizumi Minako was someone Shizuru had done a little bit of research on first and foremost; the woman was lauding her student up and down every available surface to the point of where it honestly seemed too good to true, and she had felt a sneaking suspicion that maybe – just maybe – it was. But no; her findings had turned up a late-forties, tenured professor who was inexorably fair, and not at all shy about giving her honest opinion.

So she felt better about believing the praise she was now leafing through, until she got to the final few pages that at last provided the most basic info such as current focus, grades, previous schools, age...

And just as the door opened – a name.

Well, now she honestly just felt like an idiot.

Shizuru studied the professionally clad young woman as she entered the office and shut the door; bemusedly taking in the neatly tailored, navy-blue blazer and its matching skirt, as well as the shimmering, dark green blouse underneath and the faintest hint of what was really admirably done makeup on a face she'd certainly never seen any on before.

"None of your classmates mentioned anything, hm?" she then asked dryly as her visitor approached further.

"Nope." Deep, clear green eyes twinkled mischievously as Natsuki took a seat in one of her visitor's chairs, and a faint smile was pulling almost irresistibly at the corner of her mouth. "Not a single one of them."

"Imagine that," Shizuru drawled, and leaned on her elbows as she rested her folded hands on the table.

Their eyes fenced for several moments; Shizuru's wry and faintly challenging, while Natsuki's gaze was more amused and not just a little satisfied. Then they both grinned.

"I gotcha," Natsuki stated cheerfully.

"You got me," Shizuru agreed, and inclined her head with a smile."Serves me right – I can't believe I didn't even consider that it might be you."

One of her pens was claimed, and then held loosely in one hand as the younger woman wagged it at her. "Ye of little faith and analytical ability," Natsuki mock-scolded.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Is that any way to talk to a prospective employer?" she wondered.

"Depends on the employer."

"As well as on the employee, I imagine," Shizuru conceded, before pushing the folder containing the details of Natsuki's potential employment between the two of them and gesturing to it with one hand. "Shall we?"

xXxXx

"I think that about covers everything I had to ask," Shizuru said as she leafed through the papers in front of her with a small, thoughtful purse of her lips. "Do you have any questions?"

Natsuki considered that, and carefully shifted her legs to cross her left knee over the right one. They'd gone over everything contained in the papers lying on the desk, which near as she could tell was a perfect copy of the ones she'd received herself a few weeks ago. Every minute of the past half hour or so had passed with consummate grace and politeness, and she suspected that she wasn't the only one who'd fallen back on rampant, textbook professionalism due to not knowing exactly how to _be _professional around the other woman.

It felt a little weird, honestly. In less than 48 hours they'd gone from estranged friends to re-budding acquaintances, and were now having to deal with each other on a corporate level on top of that.

Ah, well. Natsuki adjusted the reading glasses she'd settled on her nose earlier; a set of rimless, rectangle lenses with a thin, black titanium frame that even she had to admit suited her pretty well, and resisted the urge to roll her shoulders under the unfamiliar weight of the woolen suit jacket. Life was nothing but a series of challenges, and at least this was a relatively benign one.

"The one thing that isn't really specified in there are the duties I'm expected to perform," she then said, and nodded towards the folder.

"Hm." Shizuru glanced up at her with a faint smile. "I don't know how much of a description I can give you," she offered a touch bashfully. "An executive assistant is, in the most general terms, expected to help the executive they're assigned to with... well, with whatever professional matters they need assistance with, to be perfectly honest." The sculpted shoulders under the burgundy fabric shrugged. "Essentially, you would be accompanying me as often as possible and doing whatever I needed you to do; ranging from directly handling tasks given to me that I have no time for, to helping Yamuri-han with administrative and clerical work on the occasion of her being overwhelmed." A hand lifted, and then dropped again. "As for what those first 'tasks' would be, I honestly don't quite know yet."

Natsuki nodded silently, and spent a few seconds rolling the information around her head before she met Shizuru's patient gaze head-on. "Would you question the wisdom of throwing not one, but two largely inexperienced swimmers into the same lake and expecting them to help each other to shore?"

That earned her a dazzling grin that she couldn't help but mirror. "Every second of the day," Shizuru told her cheerfully. "There are really only two options; rise to the occasion and soar high..."

".. or crash and burn in a sea of fiery destruction," Natsuki finished wryly.

"Essentially," Shizuru nodded, though she didn't seem too bothered. "Thankfully, I have a very capable mentor in my father, and if you'll forgive me for saying that I have significantly more experience with this environment than you do..."

She raised one hand and gestured for the older woman to continue. No point in negating an obvious truth, after all.

"... then I would be able to mentor you, in turn," Shizuru completed her sentence with a faint tilt of her head. "At least where my own duties are concerned."

Natsuki opened her mouth to reply, only to shut it again with a faint click of her teeth when there was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Shizuru called.

"Fujino-sama." Yamuri Kina entered with a small stack of papers in her hands, and crossed over to the desk. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but a customer is requesting the help of 'whoever's in charge' - he's unable to track down a large order his company placed with us, and no one seems to know what happened to it."

"Hm." A faint furrow appeared in Shizuru's brow. "What do the records show?"

"Well, that's the problem." Kina handed the papers to the executive, and watched as she leafed through them. "This is all I was able to pull from our systems on that order. As you'll see, the order was registered as placed, then started, then given the status of 'first completion'..."

"And then nothing." Shizuru exhaled slowly. "Very well." A few seconds of silent perusal. "This type of product goes to a third party for initial testing, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, Fujino-sama."

"Which one?"

"We have a few options, unfortunately."

"And presumably due to the same error, no idea which one of them we want."

"Quite."

"Ara." Shizuru closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "_Ookini_, Yamuri-han. I'll see what I can do."

Kina nodded her head, then bowed lightly to them both and left the room.

"I didn't think it was normal for executives to handle customer complaints."

Shizuru glanced up at the young woman sitting across from her, and felt a slight smile tug at her mouth at the astute observation. "It isn't," she agreed, and then waved Natsuki closer. "That's what the support teams and account managers are there for, but since he's been asking for a status without either being able to help him, it does need to be escalated to someone higher in the company, and right now, for this division, I'm apparently it." A hand entered her field of vision as Natsuki came to a halt next to her and leaned on the desk. "And given the price tag..." She pointed to a specific section on one of the papers, and heard the soft whoosh of air as Natsuki exhaled.

"Well..." came a half-choked voice. "If I'd shelled out 50 million and my order went poof, I think I'd be raising a stink, too."

"Mm." She flipped over to another page. "Furthermore, while this order _was_ placed with our Fukuoka office, the departments handling it have all been moved here. Not all the employes wished to come with, of course, but we offered relocation funds to anyone willing to make the move, so there's a decent chance that someone in this building knows something."

"Huh." The shadows shifted slightly as Natsuki bent closer and peered at the printed text curiously. "I have no idea what the name means," she admitted. "Was this thing being produced by one department or several?"

Unseen due to their positioning, Shizuru smiled. Inexperienced as Natsuki might be, she was asking exactly the right questions. "It wasn't actually being produced in those terms," she explained, and drew on the hours she'd spent meticulously combing through the company's extensive databases as she continued. "What this is, is a new kind of material that our medical section is developing for this customer, so it's not surprising that you haven't heard of it. Once done, it should be able to replace the components currently being used in joint replacement surgery, for instance, since the compound our scientists have come up with is both compatible with the human body, lighter than the current standard and less likely to chip or fracture." She paused, and flipped back one page. "Or at least, that's what the theories suggest. The place we lost the order was somewhere around sending the specifications to a third party for construction and testing."

"I hate that phrase," Natsuki muttered, and Shizuru glanced up to see a look of disgust on her face. "It's the Digital Age; it shouldn't be possible to 'lose' anything unless a storage server catches fire or something."

"On that, we agree," Shizuru nodded. "But sometimes these things happen, and the best we can do is backtrace to see what we find, as well as look for any improvements that might keep it from happening again."

"Mm." Natsuki moved a stubborn lock of loose hair behind her ear. "So where's the last place you know you had it?"

"According to this, the MRD department in Fukuoka."

"MRD?"

"Medical Research and Development."

"Hm." The soft grunt sounded surprised enough to make her look up. "Then I might know someone who knows something."

"Really?"

"Really." Natsuki's head tilted enough for their eyes to meet, and the corner of her lips twitched. "Or... maybe, anyway. My sister is a senior departmental manager here, and she transferred from Fukuoka."

So she was, Shizuru privately reflected. An employee, anyway, though the last time she'd looked into one Yukimura Akiko, the woman had only just been promoted to manager for one section of the Fukuoka R&D department. Apparently she'd risen in rank further over the years.

Natsuki didn't know that she knew that, however.

"Then perhaps you'd like to start the investigation?" she asked, and smiled at the startled look that earned her. "It should at least give you some taste of what you'd be doing here if you and I agree, and it's a simple enough task." Pause. "Unless you need to return to school? This could take a while, depending on how many things need to be dug through to unearth a result."

"Um, no... No, I've been excused until noon," Natsuki replied, and gestured first to her clothes, and then to the room in general. "Because of, well, this. So..." She looked a little at sea, to say the least, but Shizuru was pleased to see her straighten her shoulders and settle herself. "Sure, I can give it a go." She tugged a phone from the inside pocket of her blazer, then paused when Shizuru cleared her throat. "What?"

"Use this." Shizuru held out her company-issued smartphone in invitation. "It's company business, so it goes on the company tab – not yours," she noted. "You should be able to find her extension using our contact app – every single employee is listed there."

Natsuki gave her a searching look; then claimed the phone with a nod, and pocketed her own. "Just here, or...?"

"Here, over at the couches, or in there," Shizuru agreed, and pointed to the door further off to the side. "Since that will be your office if everything works out." Her eyes twinkled faintly at the brief return of the startled look. "If you need something to write on, I have a small supply of notebooks over there." She gestured towards the storage units. "And I know you have a pen." She grinned at Natsuki's resulting blush and scowl as the younger woman fished the pen from earlier out of her chest pocket. "Should you need to leave for university before you finish, just let me know, and I'll handle the rest."

"Alright." Natsuki twirled the pen in her hand, and studied the phone's display while she secured a notebook for herself and then collected the papers. "Can I say that I'm calling on behalf of you if I need to talk to someone other than my sister?"

"Certainly. That's what you're doing." She watched Natsuki head for the door, and then spoke up again as a thought struck her. "Natsuki?"

"Mm?"

"No pressure," she promised with a slight smile. "Not finding anything doesn't mean not getting the job. I honestly just want to see how you handle it."

One wry salute and a click of the door later, she was alone in the office once more.

"Was that mean?" she wondered to herself, and settled her gaze on a large fern in one corner as she rested her chin in one hand and felt her face twitch. Yes, it probably was, she admitted to herself, and jiggled her mouse to bring her monitors back to life before rattling off her 32-character password in order to re-enter her desktop. What she had just done, after all, was what Natsuki had described earlier; the equivalent to tossing an untrained person head-first into the water to see if they would sink or swim.

However, it was something Shizuru found necessary, and something she would have suggested no matter who had been up for the position. For one, she needed to know that Natsuki was willing to take this kind of responsibility, and that she would meet any tasks presented to her head-on and do her best, even if it made her uncomfortable. Anything unknown could make you nervous, and given her lack of experience, there was a lot of unknown bound to pop up, just like there was for Shizuru herself. If Natsuki became her assistant, they would need to work as a team, and the only way they could avoid drowning in these mutually unfamiliar waters was to work well both together and apart, and find some way to stay afloat and reach the shore. A least this assignment was relatively low-key, and required little to no contact with anyone outside the company.

For now, all she could do was tread water and wait. And continue working on her overflowing inbox. Shizuru glanced around the room, and then hit the phone's speaker button, followed by the one that would connect her to the admin beyond the other door.

"_Yes, Fujino-sama?"_

"Would you happen to know if there's an electric kettle not being used somewhere in the building, Yamuri-han?"

"_... a kettle, Fujino-sama?"_

"Yes."

Pause. _"I'll ask Facilities._"

"Thank you."

xXxXx

The soft thud of the notebook landing on her desk jolted Shizuru's attention away from the documents she'd been reading, and drew it instead to the suit-clad figure now leaning against the edge of the table on one hip.

"The schematics were sent to Urara Technologies five weeks ago," Natsuki informed her as she folded her arms across her chest. "They completed the prototype-material on schedule last week, and estimate another 3-5 days for testing to finish, and the product and its data to be sent back for in-house review." Pause. "Their words."

"Excellent." Shizuru leaned back in her chair with a pleased smile, and turned it enough that she could face the younger woman fully. "What happened to the order?"

Green eyes rolled. "Ever hear that no chain is stronger than its weakest link?"

She certainly had, and also had an inkling of where the younger woman was going with the metaphor. "Human error, hm?"

"Regular one-dee-ten-tee," Natsuki nodded. "Someone typoed the entry when it was last edited, and didn't double-check hard enough before saving. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the system to shift the file not only out of the sub-library for that customer, but into a library belonging to another department entirely. According to the database-guys, it should be back where it belongs tomorrow."

Shizuru digested that; then rose to her feet and bowed. "Very well done, Natsuki," she praised her as she straightened back up. "You've enabled the company to call a major client with good news, and in..." she glanced at the clock in the corner of her monitor. "... just under 45 minutes, managed to resolve an issue that several other people have been working on for weeks."

That earned her another blush, although this time it was accompanied by a pleased, almost shy smile rather than the scowl from earlier.

"Job well done," Shizuru repeated, because it couldn't hurt to say that kind of thing twice. "And now, I'd like your opinion – do you want to work here?" Her lips twitched into a half-grin. "You must realize that I definitely want to hire you at this point."

"That was never in question," Natsuki admitted with a crooked grin of her own. "Sign me up, boss."

"Lovely." She pulled a post-it from the dispenser and spent a few minutes writing down the concise version of what Natsuki had just told her, before removing the papers that had started the whole situation from where they were tucked into the notebook, and attaching it to them. Then, out of curiosity, she opened the notebook itself and studied the writings within; aware of the soft sounds as her companion retreated a little and went to stand by the window.

The notes were neatly structured, she noted happily. On the first page was a list of the people Natsuki had talked to; starting with her sister's name and number and extending down the page through four more until an arrow swirled back up to the top of a second column, which began with a date. The day the entry was last altered, Shizuru assumed, since the writing below the date was a mixture of letters and characters that she vaguely recognized as a digital library address – presumably the last known location of the file. After that, another arrow pointed to an extension she recognized as the general number for the corporation's database team, which had been punctuated with a question mark and circled twice. The second page held carefully spaced, short-hand notes on what seemed to be the conversations Natsuki had had, and ended with the contact information for the third-party provider, and what the younger woman had learned there.

All in all, it was a short, precise and easily understandable rundown of the steps taken to solve the problem, what was discovered where and who had been involved. Enough so that Shizuru reclaimed the post-it, crumpled it up in her hand and placed the papers back into the notebook.

"Follow me," she then requested. "I'll give you a quick tour, and we can have some of the logistical matters attended to at once."

"Sure." Natsuki amiably fell into step next to her, though she didn't speak up again until Shizuru had held a brief conversation with Kina, and they were both walking down the hallway. "Paperwork, I'm guessing?"

"HR is the first stop, yes," Shizuru agreed. "Though since we have some time thanks to your speedy resolution of the problem, I'd like us to stop by Security so they can begin the process of creating an ID card for you and get started on giving you access to the systems, and also visit our equipment group. I think..." She paused to consider, then nodded to herself. "Yes, near as I was told, there should be a PC ready to go for you. Or as ready as it can be without an actual user to assign it to, at any rate."

"This soon?" Natsuki wondered, and both sounded and looked more than a little surprised as they turned a corner and came to a halt in front of a bank of elevators.

"Efficiency is everything," Shizuru noted a touch wryly as she pressed the call-button. "With any luck HR can create a main user for you today; that'll let you log in to the computer and your e-mail, as well as give you basic access to the intranet. Any further info will be sent to you via e-mail as the accounts are created."

The elevator – when it arrived – was empty, and Shizuru pressed the button for the 10th floor as she entered, and studied her new protege as the doors closed and Natsuki leaned back against the wall. She was, the executive noted with a mixture of amusement and a hint of worry, looking a little gobsmacked.

"Happening fast, isn't it?" she wondered softly, and attached a smile to the tail-end of the question when the younger woman's head jerked up.

"... a little, yeah," Natsuki admitted after a few seconds. "I mean, I'm glad, but I guess I was kind of figuring that it would take a few days for everything to be set up." Pause. "I didn't think stuff like basic setup and whatnot would happen until my actual first day here."

Natsuki had, Shizuru remembered, always been prone to getting knocked a little off-balance when she found herself in an unfamiliar situation; doubly so when the situation in question was one she had expectations for, that reality either exceeded or just didn't quite meet. Proof of her humanity, she supposed, since that was certainly common enough. Shizuru herself shared the same quality, after all; even if she was a little better at hiding it.

"If you'd had to leave immediately after the interview was over, that is presumably exactly what would have happened," she explained as they exited onto the 10th floor, which was significantly more busy than the 18th and made them either have to dodge random, power-walking individuals or vice-versa. "Either way, I'll set as much in motion as possible, but given that a few things do require your participation – such as a photo for your ID and your signature on the contract – we might as well get those taken care of while you're in the building."

"Mm." Natsuki gamely followed the older woman's lead; not, she reflected, that she had much of a choice since she certainly didn't know her way around the massive building yet. She was trying to keep track of where they were going, though the constant distraction of office workers scurrying around was making that a little difficult.

"Here we are," Shizuru's voice intruded as the two of them slipped through a sliding, glass door and left the busy hallway behind in favor of a large, open antechamber.

She looked around and took in the counters, fridge and coffee-maker nestled into one corner, the couches and low table in another, and the medium-sized island set across from a pair of large, double doors.

"This is HR?" she commented dryly.

"No," came the soft chuckle. "Not quite – through there is the main auditorium." Shizuru gestured towards the double doors. "This area is mainly for waiting and breaks during large meetings or presentations, though I believe that the Human Resources department makes use of it too – it is the closest one available to them."

Nodding and filing the location of the auditorium away for future reference, Natsuki followed the executive over to another, smaller door, and watched as Shizuru held her card up to a gray box set against the wall at about chest-height. She'd spotted plenty of those spaced out along what she'd seen of the building so far – usually near a sign with either a 1, 2 or 3 on it - and her guess as to their purpose was validated when the box beeped, and Shizuru proceeded to enter a code of some kind before the door clicked open.

"Good morning, everyone," Shizuru greeted as they stepped through the door and into a smaller, through still large open area. There was a grand total of eight desks here complete with workstations, though only six of them were actually occupied. Five of them by women, as was usually the case the case in this type of field. "I was told that there would be some papers ready to be signed here for our newest hire?"

"An assistant for you, Fujino-sama?" Surprisingly, it was the youngest-looking woman in the room who stood in response to the question, and then returned Shizuru's nod with one of her own before collecting a folder from a drawer in her desk and setting it down in front of the executive. "Here you are – a copy to sign and a copy for Kuga-san to keep; if you could take care of that now, we can get everything from our end ready."

"Thank you." Shizuru claimed the folder with a smile, and then led the way over to a high, round table settled a small distance away.

Once there, Natsuki took the folder herself and fished out the contents. One copy was clearly marked as the one to be signed and returned by way of the HR department's stamp in one corner, and she set that aside as she leafed through the other copy. It was thankfully only a few pages long; detailing the standard things like a confidentiality agreement, her title and supervisor, the expected hours and a bit of info on where she could find an overview of the benefits offered and the company's version of an employee handbook.

The short section on her salary gave her pause, however.

"You're paying me?" she questioned softly, and cocked her head curiously.

"We pay everyone who works here," was the succinct reply. "It's not as though you're an intern."

No, that was true enough, she privately admitted, but still... she touched the tip of her index finger to a specific spot on the page and quirked an eyebrow.

Shizuru leaned over to peer at the text, and then chuckled softly under her breath. "Too low?"

Natsuki recognized the glint in her eyes easily, and rolled her own in turn. "Don't be goofy," she muttered. "Why this _much_?"

"The standard annual wage for an executive assistant to a C-level officer in this company is around 15 million yen a year," Shizuru explained quietly. "Normally, you'd make two thirds of that given that you'll be working two thirds of the normal hours, but we cut it back since this _does_ roughly equate to a work experience program."

4.5 million a year still seemed a high wage to her even with that explanation, but Natsuki certainly wasn't stupid enough to argue when the point was in her favor. It wasn't as if she was hurting for money to begin with, she mused as she signed the appropriate copy with a faint sense of permanence before passing both pen and paper over to Shizuru for her signature as well. Not at all, in fact, but if nothing else, this would add to her savings and give her some additional breathing room in her monthly budget.

A few short moments later, the stamped copy had been handed back over to the young woman from earlier, and she gave the papers a quick once-over before smiling. "I'll get started on this right away," she promised. "It will probably take 15 minutes or so, Fujino-sama, until the necessary things show up in the system for Security to see. Might I suggest a short break for a drink, or a quick tour of the most basic places?"

"Thank you, Kimashi-han," Shizuru replied with a bow. "I'm sure we can find some way to fill the time. Enjoy your day, everyone."

"15 minutes?" Natsuki spoke up as they found themselves back in the antechamber.

"The employee-database updates four times every hour," Shizuru explained as she – once again – took the lead. "In regards to new records being created, at least. More pressing matters such as new passwords in the event of being locked out are instant."

"Hm." She digested that. "How the hell do you keep track of all this stuff?"

The older woman laughed softly. "Practice," she promised with a half-grin as they slipped back into the busy hallway. "Growing up, I accompanied my father to the office more times than I can remember during school holidays, so you could say that I was essentially spoon-fed a good deal of the information about the workings here." She pressed the call button for an elevator once more, and folded her hands in front of her as the two of them waited for it to appear. "And of course, I've had more than good reason to bring myself up to speed recently, though I do admittedly have a ways to go yet."

"Right." Natsuki eyed the older woman surreptitiously, and wondered if Shizuru was being purposefully modest, or if she really just was that ignorant of how much she apparently knew, and how uncommon it was for someone to know the testing and production procedure for a random product off the top of their head. It wasn't unthinkable for her old friend to downplay her own efforts – she'd played the part of the lazy kaichou long enough – but somehow this didn't strike her as being the case now.

Later for that, though, she decided as she followed the older woman into the elevator, and watched Shizuru press the button for the top floor this time.

"So what's up on the 23rd floor?" she asked as the doors closed.

"The cafeteria." Shizuru leaned back against the cart's wall and crossed her legs at the ankles. "There's room for around 300 people at once, though I doubt we'll see anyone but maybe the kitchen staff there at this hour." Her lips twitched faintly. "There's a horribly detailed map of the building available on the internal website – I'll send you a link to it once your e-mail account has been set up."

"Probably a good idea," Natsuki agreed wryly. "I'd hate to spend the first week getting lost."

"I've spent a good deal of time studying it myself," Shizuru admitted. "One thing you'll notice is that individual people or smaller teams usually have a given location consisting of a series of numbers and letters," she expanded. "There are, of course, the various floors. The sides of the building are facing roughly north, south, east and west, and the individual floors have been divided into four sections depending on which corner they're in. To further narrow things down, the directional sections have been split into subsections numbered from one to ten; lower numbers put you closer to the center of the structure, and higher ones closer to the outside walls." The tawny head inclined faintly. "Our offices, for instance, would be labeled 18-NW-10."

"18th floor, furthest north-western corner," Natsuki translated, and waited for the older woman to nod. "Alright, it'll probably take some time for it to become effortless, but I'll do what I can. What about the single-digit numbers I see plastered over the odd door around here?"

"You're probably thinking about the various security levels," Shizuru mused as the elevator eased to a stop and the doors opened. "More division – every building in the company is split into several zones from zero to five. Zero is publicly available areas like the lobby here. Zone one requires a guest ID, but no chaperoning, and the requirements for access get stricter until you reach zone five, which is where the most important equipment is housed – such as servers and the core of the network."

"Got it," she nodded as they two of them exited into a completely silent, massive room that took up almost the entire floor, apart from the twin interruptions that were the two banks of elevators; set roughly 15 meters apart on either side of the enormous skylight and the thankfully fenced-in drop all the way down to the ground floor. "Different clearances depending on the person, yeah?"

"Exactly." Shizuru led the way between the evenly spaced tables and chairs, and the curved beams of sunlight spilling in from the large windows on three of the four walls brushed over the material of her suit as she walked. "I'm cleared for zone five myself, though I doubt I'll ever need to use it; even in an emergency there are technicians far closer to the critical systems who know much more about them than I do."

"Mm." They came to a halt by a counter holding a coffee maker that was roughly half the size of Natsuki's motorcycle, and she busied herself with grabbing a cup and perusing her options while her companion predictably went for the selection of teas a few feet away. "What zone am I cleared for?" she then asked, and pushed a button to set off a hissing, percolating noise.

"The security check all potential hires undergo didn't turn anything up," Shizuru noted as she prepared her choice of leaves, and then leaned against the counter on one hand as she waited for them to steep. "Which honestly surprises me a bit," she then went on much more quietly. "Given how many things you got up to back in the day, and those are only the ones that I know of."

Natsuki felt her nose twitch faintly in response. "Yamada and Sakomizu took care of that," she explained – also _sotto voce_ – and cut her gaze to the double doors in the one wall that had no windows, and presumably separated the cafeteria from the kitchen. "I never thought there was anything to find, but thanks for confirming it."

"You're technically cleared for zone five as well," the executive then continued in a normal voice after a brief exchange of glances between them. "Although in practicality, you're probably closer to 3.5 or so – you'll be able to enter zones four and five, but unless something is really, truly amiss, it's generally discouraged that you do so without me, for instance."

"Fair enough." Natsuki claimed her now full cup, and waited for her companion to do likewise with her own, before the two of them selected one of the plethora of available tables and took seats opposite each other next to a window facing the bay outside. Shizuru turned her head faintly to study the view as the silence stretched between them, but that was alright, since it gave Natsuki the chance to study her.

Things were, unsurprisingly, still a little strange between them, and she examined that thought as she curled her hands around her own cup and sipped her coffee. There were so many things they'd never talked about; most of it at least halfway buried in the sands of time. They'd had the chance after the Carnival finally ended while they completed the school year, but... Natsuki wasn't sure what Shizuru's exact reasons had been, but both of them – hell, all of them – had focused almost desperately on the sudden normalcy after months of living with death on their doorstep, and as a result, nothing had been asked or offered by anyone involved in that time.

She could, she knew, have pushed for the two of them to talk. About what had happened, about what Shizuru had done, and about what Natsuki herself had done during that time. Could, and probably should have, but there was little to be gained in wondering about could-have-beens. At any rate, she hadn't, and now she found herself here; across from a woman she barely knew anymore, and yet wanting more than anything to re-build the closeness she'd felt back then.

If she could. Mostly, that depended on whether or not Shizuru was willing to meet her halfway.

Natsuki snuck another glance at the unfocused, diverted crimson eyes, and then startled slightly when they flicked to meet her own and stayed there. There was a faint, warm undertone in that look that made her hopeful, and she lifted her cup in a wry toast.

"We need to talk about... things at some point," she then noted, and purposefully kept her voice as even as she possibly could. "If that's okay with you?"

She'd caught the executive by surprise – that much was clear to see - and she waited in silence for the response while she watched the tiny tugs at the corner of the older woman's mouth.

"We will," Shizuru promised eventually, and dropped her gaze briefly before lifting it again. "But..."

Natsuki nodded. "Later," she agreed. Their re-building friendship was still far too new, far too raw for that kind of conversation, but as long as they agreed that the conversation _would_ happen at some point, she was perfectly content to be patient.

"So." She licked her lips and settled herself before finding a genuine smile. "Were you gonna get me carded, or what?"


End file.
